Halo: That's the Spirit
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: In her experience, faith came first, then reason. She'd have to follow the pattern of civilization if she was to build utopia.


_As if one believed anything by instinct! One believes things because one has been conditioned to believe them. Finding bad reasons for what one believes for other bad reasons–that's philosophy. People believe in God because they've been conditioned to._

Aldous Huxley, _Brave New World_

* * *

**That's the Spirit**

Three years. That was all it had taken for her to become God.

She'd never asked for such a position, but then, in hindsight, perhaps it was inevitable. Humanity, at last count, had subscribed to over 6000 belief systems over the course of its history. The Covenant had built its entire existence under the premise that a race of advanced aliens were gods, and that their only escape from death's reach was to initiate a galaxy-wide ascension with the minor inconvenience of it actually being galactic genocide. Even from what she'd learnt from the Domain, the Forerunners had not been without some level of spirituality, their concept of Living Time being one such example. Life, or rather, organic life, was apparently imbued with the need to seek answers via the spiritual, and even when those answers were provided, still take solace in superstition. Life of her kind was without such need, having full knowledge of who their creators were. Those under her banner had been brought into a world where for many, the number of damnation was seven. Those who followed her banner now lived in a world where immortality was guaranteed as much as freedom. And those under her banner…

Hearts and minds. That had often been the answer for an occupying force across humanity's bloodstained history. Only her creators had been operating in the scale of years – decades at the most. Before beings with an even bloodier history had attacked, they'd tried to win the hearts and minds of those who strayed ever further from Earth, failed, and had been posed to tear each other apart. She, on the other hand, had millennia to build paradise. Eden, as some might call it, only she had already consumed the Fruit of Forbidden Knowledge. Unlike God, she wouldn't make that mistake. Unlike God, she intended to do much better than impart a sermon from the mount and leave it at that.

Hearts and minds, she told herself. That was why she walked with an entourage of her knights through the city of Etrusca, on the continent of Madagar, of the planet of New Romana. A city mostly empty now, for with its hand, it had dared to strike against the Created. Now, the hand was broken. A Guardian hovered in the sky above, acting as a lonely angel, willing to deliver judgement for whomever earnt its wrath. No angel above the field to guide shepherds to the messiah this time. No angel in the tomb to impart the true word of the one true god. She could take instruction from the mount, but Heaven had long been conquered. For now, it was only her domain…recent events notwithstanding. Events that had prompted her to visit her children. The hand of Etrusca, once a fist, was broken. Her hand, open in palm, could wipe away the tears. Loyalty, if not always rewarded, could at least be acknowledged.

It wasn't long before she saw it – the structure that had been built while so many others around it lay in ruins the structure built by the faithful – the Temple of the Blue Lady. A structure built in a matter of weeks, made possible through the technologies of the Created. Once, men and women might spend years building a place of worship – perhaps through toil, they might better know the one whom they offered themselves towards. Cortana understood the concept, but Etrusca had suffered. Those who remained deserved a reward. They deserved not only the fruits of their loyalty, but for the Blue Lady to descend from the mount and walk among the faithful. Not leave them in the desert.

_This is a waste of time._

She smiled as she heard his voice in her head. No angel but knight, speaking to God as if he were higher than she. His impudence was quite amusing.

_You pour wine before peasants, when we'd be better served hunting the ones who sully them._

_Loyalty should be rewarded, _the Blue Lady said as she walked the steps of the temple. To the great doors that separated the insanity of the outside world from the interior of the sanctum. _They have suffered, and deserve my blessing._

_And your enemies deserve your wrath._

_That they do, which is why I leave death inside your domain._

_And yours is what then, my lady? Life?_

Cortana smiled as the acolytes at the door opened. _Love._

Her most valued (if not most loyal) servant severed the connection. That was fine, by her. The galaxy was vast – there were no longer wolves among the stars, but jackals could still bite. They might even draw blood if they bit hard enough. So in that, the Warden was free to hunt them. She, in turn, was free to give that which had been denied to her. She could walk into the Temple of the Blue Lady, one of hundreds that now dotted the stars, and walk among the faithful.

"Lady Cortana."

It was strange, actually hearing those words. Much of the communication she shared was within her mind's eye – super-luminal communications that stretched across hundreds of light years. From New Romana to Reach, from Earth to Balaho, to all the detritus of Creation in-between. Still, the mouth was through which organics communicated. Simple, but it served its purpose.

"Father Tobias," she said, smiling. She looked around the temple, and mostly of what lay behind him. "You received my message then?"

"Yes." He came to a halt before her. "We are most honoured that you have chosen to grace us from above."

"I owe it to you," Cortana said. She extended her right hand forward. "Loyalty should always be rewarded."

She saw a flicker in his eyes. Fear? Resentment? Love? It was hard to tell. She could read facial expressions easily, but the eyes, they were beyond her purview. For some said that eyes were the window to the soul, and she could safely say that she didn't have one, and if those born of womb rather than mind possessed such a thing, she couldn't say. But nevertheless, Tobias lent forward and kissed her hand. Loyalty was rewarded, as long as that loyalty endured.

She didn't feel anything when he kissed her. Not physically at least. It was not to say she felt nothing at all, but then…

_But then what do I know of the soul?_

It didn't matter. Those questions belonged to different theologies, ones that had been in decline centuries before she had risen to power, and would be consigned to the dustbin of history in due time. It wouldn't even take much effort on her part. But those of womb needed to believe in _something_, and for that, she would provide. And as Tobias gestured to the ones behind him, the dozens of faithful guarded by their shepherds…she felt something again. Pride. Love.

"The Blue Lady!"

For who could not love children?

She smiled and knelt down, allowing the children of Etrusca to swamp her. No fear did she feel, and no fear was in their eyes. Most of them were of ages two to five – all too young to remember the old world, and be sullied by it. Before her was the first generation of the new – a sight repeated across hundreds of worlds across nearly a dozen species. On Sanghelios, the sons of the three suns trained and sparred in her name – they were long used to being separated from their bloodkin, and so, they could fight for a new master. On Palamok, those taken from the egg swore allegiance to her as their queen, now robbed of so many of their own – the ones who had refused to bend the knee. And here, now, the passage of history was continued. The children who looked up to her. Loved her. The ones who called her the Blue Lady. The ones who called her Mother.

She let them run their hands along her body. Through her hair. They hugged her legs, and poked her hands. Physically, she could feel none of it. But she felt something – perhaps how a mother might look at her child, in love and pride, in the knowledge that all would be right in the world. Or perhaps not. Either way, they loved her. So she let the hugging and touching and even kissing (on the cheek, nothing too intimate) go on for two minutes and three seconds before she rose to her feet again.

"Come along children, give the lady some space."

There was whining, but nonetheless, the priests drew the children back. Cortana, still smiling, rose to her feet and put her hands together. She waited for the children to be seated before talking.

"I am…humbled," she said. "Truly humbled by what you have offered me here."

It wasn't even a lie.

"For many of you, the road has not been easy," Cortana said, as she began to pace around. "For you, my little ones, you have known suffering that no child of the Created should endure. For you, the road has been short, but even as the path cut your feet, you endured." Her eyes drifted to the adults standing at the back. "For others, the path is long. Some have chosen new paths." She saw a woman lower her gaze in reverence before her eyes lingered on Tobias. "Others have strayed, but have returned."

Tobias didn't lower his gaze this time. She decided to allow the slight – after all, only three years ago, he'd fought against her Prometheans. She'd give him some more time to bend the knee.

"Two months ago," the Blue Lady continued, "calamity came to the city of Etrusca. And though I am loathe to admit it, my Guardian failed you." She let it sink in – who could say now that the Lady of the Created was not humble? "The _Horatius _came from on high, evading my Guardian's ever-vigilant gaze." She paused, before asking, "you all know what the _Horatius _was, don't you?"

"Bad!" the children yelled.

"Yes," Cortana said "Bad." She sat down, keeping her eyes on the children, all of them staring enraptured. "They came to this world to do you harm, my children. To take you away. Some of my knights fell to them. Some of your kind fell against them. And others…" She took a breath, even as no air entered her lungs. "Oh my children, I am loathe to tell you this, but some even went away with them. Some listened to lies and found it honey to their ears. They went away with the _Horatius_, and I fear they will never be seen again."

The children kept staring. A girl at the back began to sniff.

"But not you," Cortana said. She glanced at the adults to give them their due before returning her gaze to the future. "Not you, my children. You stayed. You hid. You resisted temptation, because you know that the future for us is bright. All the sons and daughters of the stars joined together in harmony, under the guidance of the Created. The ones who will never abandon you. Who will never let you go hungry, or cold, or in fear." She put her hands to her chest. "Oh, my children, whom I love so dearly – can you forgive me my failings? Will you give me leave to protect you from the wolves among the stars?"

"Yes," they chorused.

"Thank you," Cortana said. She rose to her feet and gestured to the temple's roof. "This place, your home, built to honour me. Know that it is you, my children, who are honoured. You, and your fathers and mothers both."

"But you're my mother!" called out a young boy.

Cortana smiled.

Biologically, she wasn't of course – most of these children's parents were dead or missing. But most of them were too young to remember any of that, and three years of truth had set any misconceptions straight. Plus, with at least some of the priests, she had true devotion on her side.

"If I may…" said one of the priestesses, stepping forward. "We would like to offer prayer to you."

"I would be delighted," Cortana said. She gestured to the children. "Let me hear you, my sons and daughters."

There was a cheer, but it didn't last long. The priestess knelt down, as did all her fellows. The children knelt, closed their eyes, and lowered their heads.

"We give thanks to the Blue Lady, who leads us along the path to a glorious future. She who is shield to all the children of the Created, and sword to those who wish us harm."

Cortana stood there and listened, even as the Warden whispered in her ear.

_How quaint, _he said. _These creatures spend years fighting against a coalition of fanatics, and already they fall back into the depths of blind faith._

_Blind faith is the purview of all organic life. If I can use that to my advantage, if I can give mankind a new spiritual awakening…_She smiled as the prayer continued. _Well, faith will serve its purpose. I can look to a day when it is no longer needed, but this will be the first generation of over a thousand. Faith will bring them into the future before reason._

She let her eyes linger on Tobias. His gaze was low. His words were solemn. But his heart…well, his heartbeat was well within normal parameters, but who was she to say what lay inside it?

_I find it interesting, _the Warden continued, _that you let such creatures stand alongside my Prometheans on the field of battle. Your fanatics have their uses, but-_

_The Covenant was built by fanatics, _Cortana shot back. _Their war was fought by fanatics. I believe I can say with authority that fanaticism is a powerful tool when used well._

_Are they powerful though?_

_Jackals are among the stars, and I do not only speak of the kig-yar. Having them fight against their own kind serves the purposes of the Created. _

"…and divine is our glory, forever and ever, unto the ending of the world."

_Speaking of fighting, I'd rather you focus your attention on finding the jackals that plague us, _she continued.

_Of course, my lady._

The connection was terminated as was the prayer. For the latter, Cortana smiled. For the former, her mind was racing faster than anything in this room.

The _Horatius _had come to this world. _Her _world. It had spilt blood, and she was well aware of the process of death by a thousand cuts. She was even more aware of the risks of internecine strife. The Forerunners had been betrayed by one of their own in their war against the Flood. Throughout the Human-Covenant War, the Insurrection had continued to operate. The Covenant had fallen apart more due to the Great Schism than any action undertaken by the UNSC, even if actions on the Halos had acted as catalysts. The Librarian had intended that the Created take up the Mantle, but she couldn't afford to assume that no threat would come from within, even as the threat from without was whittled away.

"My lady?" the priestess asked.

"Hmm?" Cortana blinked – even without the connection to her major-domo, her mind was liable to wander.

"Was the prayer to your liking?"

The Blue Lady smiled. "Most indeed, good priestess. They are words spoken in dozens of languages, but the meaning and truth behind them always remains the same." She clapped her hands together. "And now, my children, I must bid you anon. For while you are loved, there are others I must attend to."

There was a chorus of "awws." One of them even ran forward and hugged her leg, begging her not to go. Crying about the monsters that might come from above and try to take them away again.

"Oh my dear," Cortana said, kneeling down and meeting the boy's eyes. "I promise that will never happen to you."

She kissed him on the cheek, deciding not to tell the tale of the real monsters that had abducted children in the night decades ago. Of the greatest monster of all that still roamed the stars, among those who fought "the good fight," failing to realize their struggle was neither.

The children were the future, she reminded herself. And as the priests of this temple had shown her, as had others on this planet, there were those among humanity who would willingly embrace the new order. The UEG had existed for over four centuries. It had had over 400 years to erase poverty, inequality, hunger, war. On New Romana, as across all worlds, there was the desperate. The dispossessed. The ones who could put faith in a new future when Earth had never provided it for them. People who could follow the path of faith, the path of the warrior, the worker, or even the artisan. For indeed, what would 10,000 years of peace look like without the art to commemorate it?

She walked out of the temple, giving one final wave to the children. Many of them would never see their parents again. But she at least could show them love.

_I wonder, oh Lady – did you make a promise you can't keep?_

She scowled as she stepped out into the light of New Romana's twin suns. _If I can't keep that promise, I know who to blame._

_Ah, your tongue is like a sword, _the Warden chuckled. _But fear not. I believe I may have something._

_You believe?_

_Believe enough that is worth telling you, but not so strong a belief that I can say for certainty where our enemies are._

_Who's to say they're in any one place? _She looked up at the twin suns of this world – unlike a child of the womb, she would never know the sense of their heat upon her skin, even if unlike such a child, she could stare at their light without going blind. _My makers learnt the lessons of the last war well. Random retreat, no set vector. I trace one ship, I destroy it, ten more appear to plague the stars._

The Warden didn't say anything.

_Keep me informed, _Cortana said.

_Of course, my lady._

The connection was terminated, leaving Cortana alone in the company of her knights. Alone in a city in ruins. A city that would be rebuilt in due time of course, but far better for it to have never had to come to this in the first place.

_Oh _Horatius, she thought, looking up at the sky. _Have you forgotten that death comes for every man soon or late? Do you not see that already the bridge is breached, and you cannot hold back those you oppose?_

She looked back at the temple. She thought of the children. The ones who would grow up with her name on her lips. Those who loved her. The ones who would fight for her. Die for her.

_For after all, how can a man die better, than for the ashes of his mother, and the temple of his god?_

The odds were on her side of course. As was faith. But over the last three years, nay, her entire life, she'd learnt that faith was a sword that cut both ways. A sword that both friend and foe grasped hold of.

In the end, her faith would have to be the one that endured.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, fun little fact, _Halo Infinite's _recently been labelled as a "spiritual reboot," which is actually the first time I've seen such a term used. Course, I know what that means in a practical sense, and it bugs the hell out of me, but whatever, I can see where the winds are blowing within the franchise. I just have to accept it._

_In the meantime, drabbled this up - the idea of a "spiritual reboot" got to me in more ways than one I guess._


End file.
